First Kiss
by Sophie929
Summary: First kisses aren't easy. Especially if you're eleven year old Mary Lennox. (Dickon/Mary)


"_The room fell quiet. And as I read down the list of over one hundred and fifty eighth-grade boys, I realized that to me, there had only ever been one boy."-_ _Wendelin Van Draanen__,_ _Flipped_

"First Kiss"

There was a howl on the wind that night, the rain pelting the windows with all they had. Mary decided she wanted to read before she went to bed, but the loud sounds coming from the outside could not be ignored. She turned her gaze away from her book and just stared out the window. It really was coming down. Slicing through the trees, the wind seemed to be pushing them over as if it wants them to be ripped out the ground. Dickon told her that rain was good, it feeds all the plants and fills the streams and lakes, but as Mary stared out her window, she couldn't help but worry for her garden. She couldn't understand how something can appear so destructive but be so important for the ecosystem. She learned to always use gentle hands when dealing with her lovely flowers. Dickon says plants are delicate and need to be taken care of carefully.

_I'm not sure the weather understands that, _Mary thought.

"I hope Dickon's alright," Mary whispered, her eyes still locked outside her window.

Martha wasn't sure she heard her correctly. She cocked her head as she folded some of Mary's extra blankets, "Wha' was tha' Miss Mary?"

"Nevermind," Mary answered, feeling a little embarrassed, because she had no idea she said it outloud. Martha had always teased Mary about having spend so much time with her brother. She would fold her arms and say, _Now don' ya go fallin for Dickon, Miss Mary. He's no' verra handsome and he can be quite piggish when he's eatin'. Tha deserves a gentleman at the dinner table._ Mary would always respond, assuring her that would never happen, but she wasn't so sure herself. What did it mean to fall in love? Mary _is_ eleven years old now and it's normal for a young lady to be asking these kind of her book Mary met Martha's gaze, "Martha, can I ask you something?"

Martha can see the concern and wonder in her innocent eyes. "Ah don' see why not?"

Carefully Mary asked, not very sure Martha can answer this, "How do you know if you're in love?"

Martha stared at her, both shocked and amused at the question. Mary could feel her face burn apple red. She wanted to pull the covers over her head and never come out, but resisted the urge and waited patiently for her answer. Martha dropped the blankets on the end of her bed and sat down. This was no ordinary conversation, so Martha can't be distracted. It was important. Still she couldn't help but note the flush in Mary's face, like a healthy tomato, ready for picking. "Why does tha ask? Is there a lad?"

"No!" Mary answered a bit too quickly and a moment later said, "Maybe. I don't know." Both embarrassed and excited Martha is willing to talk to her about it, she takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the strange feelings bubbling in her stomach. A year ago, Mary once thought Dickon was an angel, but later she found out he was so much more than that and she just couldn't explain how or why. "Uncle Archibald bought me some books and one I've read is called 'Sleeping Beauty'. The prince woke her with true love's kiss."

"Aye," Martha said urging her to continue.

"Well, how did he know he was in love? They only known eachother for a day."

"Sumtimes tha's all it takes," Martha answers seriously but not a second later, she sprouts a smile sly and asking for trouble, "Tha never anwsered mi question. Is all dis about a lad?"

Mary could feel herself shrinking under Martha's gaze. It was as if she could see right through her and she knew she just couldn't lie to her. Of course she was talking about Dickon, even though Martha didn't know that, she did know Mary was talking about someone. It was best to just swallow her pride and take all the advice she could get, so she did. "Yes…" Mary answered slowly, "I think there is." Martha beamed with excitement. She felt so happy for Mary and quickly asked for a name, but Mary refused to give it. "So how do I know, for sure, if it's love?"

"Tha'll know when tha kiss 'im," Martha answered pleased to see Mary's eyes widened in shock.

"Kiss Dic- I mean… I?" Mary stumbled, loss of words as she tried to save herself from almost revealing who she was talking about. "I can't possibly kiss him!"

"An why no'?"

"Because he doesn't know!" Mary exclaimed.

Martha took her words in consideration. That would make things more difficult but Martha was once a girl too and understands what's it like. "Then tha should tell 'im."

Mary was quiet again. It seemed like the more answers she got so did the questions. "How?"

"Tha's up to you Miss Mary."

Mary pouted. She didn't exactly get an answer this time, "Well I simply can not kiss him."

"Well then, tha'll never know," Martha answered.

…

The next day the sun came out and the grounds were a soupy muddy mess. She was happy to see the storm actually hadn't damaged her precious garden at all and because of the rain, there really wasn't much to do. Still Dickon met her inside the (not so) secret garden like always. They decided to go to her favorite swing and swing a little but upon seeing how wet it was from last night, Mary almost reconsidered.

"Don' worry Miss Mary," Dickon told her, as he took off his jacket. He laid it down on the seat as Mary protested.

"Dickon! You're jacket! It'll get wet!" she cried. Mary wasn't naive when it came to status, she knew very well Dickon didn't have many nice things, so she didn't like the idea of using possibly his _only_ jacket like a rag, but Dickon didn't seem to care. He shrugged and insisted it was alright.

"It's onny water," he said as he gestured toward the seat "C'mon Mary. Sit down," and Mary obeyed, feeling that strange bubbling in her stomach. Gently pushing her they smiled and laughed about nothing. For about five minutes they didn't talk or sing songs like usual. Martha's words still ringing in her head.

"_I can't possibly kiss him!"_

"_Well then, tha'll never know."_

Mary jumped off the swing as it glided to the bottom. Immediately Dickon grabbed the swing's ropes, forcing it to a halt. He stared at Mary with concern, realizing since he arrived that Mary wasn't acting like herself. He wanted to know too. He, too, had a lot of questions like why did he love being in the garden so much? Why did he spy on her the moment he heard of the wild lassie of Misselthwaite? Why is it every time she seems sad, he immediately wants make her smile again?

"Dickon?" Mary turned and Dickon was sure she had something on her mind. He just hoped it was something he could help her with.

"Wha' is it?" He smiled and instantly something inside of Mary melted. It was warm like when she ate hot soup on a cold day.

_Please don't be angry with me_, she stressed, finding the courage to finally say what she needs to. She hadn't realized she was letting her worry show on her face and when Dickon saw it, his smile fell.

"Would you…" she spoke carefully and slowly, "like someone who could want for nothing?"

Dickon's smile recovered as he sat on the seat of the swing, "Sure ah would," he answered swaying his legs a little to get the swing going, "Ah li' Collin and ah li' tha allot."

A little frustrated he didn't seem to quite understand what she was asking him, she dropped her eyes to the ground, shuffling her foot as her face blushed, this time pink instead of red. "Well, would you… would you… love or marry… someone who could want for nothing?" Mary dared not look up and it was a good thing too. Dickon came to a stop, digging his feet into the stone below him. Completely shocked at her question, he tried to find the right words, but words were forever lost.

He had never thought about it, but the question seemed to speed up his heart, the same it had done to Mary's. Both their hearts were beating like a freeway, like the flap of a hummingbird's wings. Dickon swallowed, causing his adam's apple to bounce before he answered, "Ah… Ah'm no' sure. Ah never thowt about it before." Mary was quiet, not pleased by his answer. She continued to shuffle her feet and Dickon continued to stare. "Why?"

Mary's heart, impossibly, began to beat faster, Martha's words still playing in her head like a broken record.

"_Well then, tha'll never know."_

Finally Mary found her courage. She met Dickon's questioning gaze and steadily approached him, like Dickon would to some animals. Doing exactly what he'd do, she slowly inched her way closer, filling the gap between them, and careful to not startle him. Dickon couldn't move. He felt himself frozen, paralyzed to the seat and before he could say anything, Mary leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It was very brief, their lips made a loud sound as they parted, and once she had done it, she turned her heels and raced out of the garden, leaving a _very_ stunned Dickon inside, still frozen in his state of shock.

She felt like crying and leaping for joy at the same time. She was so frustrated with herself and proud of herself. She didn't know how she was feeling but at the same time she knew exactly what she was feeling. She's never felt this conflicted before and she didn't understand how she could feel so angry and yet peaceful, she felt happy and yet sad, confident and also so self conscience. Martha didn't tell her she'd be feeling this way and it certainly didn't provide her with any answers. She even found herself asking even more questions: What if he hated it? What if he never talks to her again? What if she just ruined their friendship!?

The poor eleven year old felt like ripping her hair out, it was all so frustrating. She didn't care how it all turned out, there was just one thing on her mind. _Please Dickon! Please don't hate me!_

She didn't go to the garden the next day or the day after that. She wanted to know what Dickon thought but she also didn't. Too afraid of the answer she locked herself indoors which was also conflicting because though it did save her from the unknown, she also hated staying indoors. It always felt cramped and stuffy. She liked stretching her legs and breathing in fresh air, but considering the circumstances, she could learn to adapt. That is what she thought, until Collin wondered why she was avoiding the garden. She couldn't tell him what she had done. It was too embarrassing so to avoid further questioning, she agreed to go with him later that afternoon.

Her heart started to quicken and her hands shivered. The bubbling in her stomach returned but this time more vicious and uncomfortable. Her knees felt weak as she entered the already unlocked garden. She wasn't surprised to see Dickon already working, his back turned to her, as he ripped out weeds and patted down the soil. "What are you working on Dickon?" Collin asked .

"T' soil looked a wee too thick, so ah thowt ah-" Dickon turned his head toward Collin, but stopped when he saw Mary standing right behind him. They stayed like that, staring at eachother. No words came out and Collin glanced at Dickon and back to Mary.

"What's the matter with you two?" Collin asked, irritated. He hated it the first time they done this and was happy when it stopped.

"Nothing," Mary answered. Dickon still doesn't say anything. Not even his usual, '_Ello Miss Mary!_ Suddenly the courage which brought her there, ran out, and Mary felt herself backing away saying, "I-I've seem to have forgotten my watering can." Dickon stood up and that was her cue to run again. The door was _just_ to her left. "So I'll just go and get it-" but before she could free herself, Collin jumped to his feet, racing out of the garden.

"I'll get it, Mary!" he exclaimed, obviously trying to please her. It didn't.

"No Collin, please!" but it was too late. He had already left, leaving her alone with… with… _him_.

Dickon stood before her, still speechless and it made Mary feel so weak. She had never felt so insecure in her life, not even when those kids used to sing at her:

_Mistress Mary, Quite contrary,_

_How does your garden grow?_

_With Silver Bells, And Cockle Shells,_

_And pretty maids all in a row._

She always hated that song, except when Dickon sang it, because she knows he didn't mean any harm by it. He never meant any harm. It was then when Mary thought she was just being silly and told her self to just act like it never happened, but that didn't help when she approached him and they both kneeled down toward the flower beds, his eyes locked on her. She began playing with the soil, just to distract herself.

"Tha' kissed me," Dickon said and it wasn't a question.

Mary could feel her face flush and it was _really_ starting to irritate her. "I did,"she felt her heart beating again and finally Dickon broke out of his state of shock and went back to his own work as he dug and patted the soil. Mary was sure he hated her but then as she reached for a small weed, sticking out like it was trying to catch it's first breath of air, Dickon grabbed her hand. Surprised she tried to pull away but he wouldn't let her. Mary met his gaze and he was smiling. It wasn't his usual smile either, this was something happier, lighter, and safer. Suddenly Mary realized he didn't hate her or her kiss… infact he may even…

She smiled back, her heart soaring, her insides shooting fireworks, whatever other lame romantic line to say she was really really happy, as he gave her hand a squeeze as if he were saying, _Please don't run away again_.

Mary knew one day she would like to say she loves Dickon Sowerby, whatever that meant, she still wasn't sure, but it would feel right saying it, if she were talking about Dickon. She laced her fingers with his, "Can ah kiss thee?" he asked.

They both laughed as she nodded her head and he did.

The End

**READER'S NOTE**:

**Okay please tell me what you think. I know the accent could have been better, I'm actually no good at accents so please forgive me if it's wrong. Hate it, love it, don't understand it. Please review!**


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